The Pastry Shop
by augiesannie
Summary: One raw November day, a young postulant has a curious encounter while roaming about Salzburg. One-shot. Please read, review and check out the A/N.


The Pastry Shop

"Anna, hurry up and choose already!"

Maria tapped her foot impatiently as her friend hovered over the pastry case. It was taking Anna an awfully long time to choose from the case full of mouthwatering delicacies. Maria, being the impatient type, had already bought her treat and was rapidly consuming it. Still, she told herself, they weren't in any real hurry. They weren't due back at the Abbey for another hour, and on this raw November day, the warm, brightly lit patisserie was as good a place as any to spend the last hour of their day off.

It was frustrating: September and October had passed, in all their autumnal splendor, without a single day off for the postulants at Nonnberg. How Maria had missed being out on her mountain during the glorious change of seasons! And how frustrating that today, their first free day in months, the weather was too miserable for a trip to the mountain. Especially since Maria no longer had the mittens and hat she'd been issued last winter. She'd told Sister Berthe she'd lost them – "well, you'll just have to do without from now on" – but in fact, she'd given them to a beggar on the street one cold spring night.

The girls scattered all over Salzburg on these rare free days. Those who had family nearby usually took advantage of the chance for a good meal and a hot bath. Of course, the most devout girls made a beeline to one of the neighborhood churches. Maria had no opportunity for the former, and, feeling a twinge of guilt, had to admit she wasn't very interested in the latter. She loved God and was anxious to do His will, but she thought that God in His wisdom probably understood her need for a break in routine.

Although it was strictly against the rules, a smaller group of girls had gone to the movies, intent on seeing a new romantic drama starring Hans Albers, their current hearththrob. Anna had declined to join them – she was already on probation with Sister Berthe – and that made her a suitable companion for Maria , who found romantic films boring. Anna and Maria had a brisk walk around the gardens, wandered through some art galleries and a book store, and were now stopped for a treat to finish off the day.

Anna seemed to have made no progress in her deliberations, Maria noted, carefully licking the last of the icing from her fingers. She looked around the pastry shop, with its airy glass cases, walls covered in pink silk, its glittering chandeliers, elegant marble tables and dainty metal chairs. Late on a weekday afternoon, there were only a few patrons seeking a cup of hot chocolate or a warm pastry to comfort them against the cold. But Maria realized, uneasily, that a few of them were casting sidelong glances at the two young postulants. With their heavy black boots, long black dresses and wimples, they didn't look at all like they belonged in the refined, feminine space of Salzburg's finest patisserie.

A bell tinkled weakly from near the doorway; glancing in its direction, Maria saw two very small girls leaning against the heavy door, trying with only partial success to push it open. Smiling, she went over to pull the door open for them. The younger one, who couldn't have been more than five or six, with long golden curls tumbling down her back, threw her shoulders back and smiled confidently at Maria, but she didn't say a word. It was the other, brunette and perhaps a year older, who lisped a quiet, "thank you, Sister," before the two of them began to inspect the card of ice cream flavors.

A moment later, three older girls entered the shop. One of them seated herself at a table, pulled a book from her bag and began reading, while the others hastened over to the ice cream counter. "Gretl. Marta. Don't do that again," said the oldest girl, with a gentle but firm air. "Don't run away from us like that. What would Father say if we lost you?"

The younger girls murmured apologies, and before long, they were all deeply immersed in a discussion of ice cream flavors. "Brig, do you want your usual?" they called to the girl with the book and she nodded without looking up. Maria couldn't help noticing something odd about the oldest two girls – although all of the children were well-dressed in elegant clothing, these two were wearing sandals on a chilly November day, and their skirts seemed awfully short.

Maria turned back to her companion. "Anna. Why don't you get a few, if you can't decide. I'll spring for them." She took a second look and – how could she have been so stupid?—the reason for Anna's indecision became clearer. She was being waited on by a strapping young man, with blond curls and a wide smile. Maria shook her head and turned away, smiling. She couldn't blame Anna for the little flirtation – he was an awfully cute fellow – but she wondered what the young counter-boy saw in the wimpled postulant.

Without warning, the door flew open again, this time with an alarmingly loud bang, the little bell pealing mightily. A man entered the shop – a tall man, broad shouldered, handsome in a middle aged kind of way. He was dressed formally, and there was something about his commanding air that seemed to fill the room. Even Anna seemed to have forgotten about her counter-boy in favor of gaping at the stranger, and Maria noticed that the group of girls froze in place as he stalked over to them..

"Where are the boys?" he asked impatiently. His voice wasn't harsh, exactly, but it wasn't warm either.

"We lost track of them at the toy store," explained one of the girls.

The man sighed and shook his head. Reaching into his pocket, he said grimly, "I know how to get them back here quickly."

"Oh, Father, no, please, not here!" the oldest girl begged. A look of displeasure crossed his face, but then their eyes met – these two clearly had a complicated history, Maria thought – and whatever it was he'd taken from his pocket was returned. "I'll go look for them," the girl offered, and when he nodded his assent, she scurried out the door.

Anna tugged at Maria's sleeve. "All right, I've ordered. They're just going to put it in a box for me. Can you loan me two marks?"

The loan transaction completed, Maria scanned the room again. The ice cream family was seated now, the four remaining girls silently spooning ice cream while their father tapped his foot and looked around the room as though he'd rather be anywhere else. Maria wondered where the girls' mother was – he wasn't acting like he enjoyed spending time with his children at all, and certainly not in this jewel box of a patisserie. He looked like he belonged at the head of an army, or in command of a ship instead, thought Maria.

"Father." It was the youngest one, the one with the blond curls. "Have we finished our errands?"

Wearily, the man ran a hand through his hair. "No, we haven't. Liesl and Louisa still need shoes and clothes that fit them. But I am out of time. I'm expecting a telephone call within the hour, so we're going to need to return home. It will just have to wait for the new governess. I can't impose on Frau Schmidt to be housekeeper and governess anymore, she's made herself ill working so hard. Meanwhile, you can all wear your uniforms. If they're good enough for family portraits, they're good enough for every day, and we've got a supply in every size."

"Are you going away again this week?"' asked the girl who'd been buried in a book.

The man sighed again. "Yes. I hope to. As soon as your new governess arrives."

Maria watched the girls' faces fall. "Who is she?" asked one of the girls.

"Her name? I haven't a clue. I just hope this one stays long enough for us to find out."

"Are you angry at us?" asked one of the younger girls, the one who had thanked Maria so charmingly.

Their father was quiet for a moment. "I'm frustrated, Marta," he said tightly. "We're had, what, nine? I've lost count. Nine governess in three years. Your behavior is always reported to be the issue. I don't see signs of any problem myself, and God knows you were all well behaved enough when your mother was al-" he stopped abruptly.

"Maria. Let's go. We've got a half-hour to get back," Anna broke into Maria's thoughts. There was a little flurry of goodbyes with the counter-boy, and then the two postulants made their way out of the shop. Maria thought to wave to the little girls on her way out, but they were wrapped up with their sisters. And she was a little afraid of attracting their father's attention. He looked like his bite might be even worse than his bark, she thought.

Maria thought of the family in the patisserie only once more, before she fell asleep. She was saying her usual prayers – for everyone at Nonnberg, for her parents' souls in heaven, and so on – when she thought to add a prayer for the five girls, their unknown number of brothers, their mother who was apparently in heaven. And then, in a moment of generosity, she added the father to her prayer. Having grown up with no parents or siblings at all, Maria had always assumed that having even one of either was an automatic guarantee of happiness. After today, she wasn't so sure.

NINE MONTHS LATER

"You promised them what?" he asked, eyebrows raised in mock dismay.

"Ice cream."

"An hour before dinner? What kind of mother are you going to make?"

She rolled her eyes. "One who understands how perfectly miserable a day of rehearsals and fittings can be. Because I detest all of this wedding fuss as much as they do. They deserve a treat and so does their governess. Their mother. Both of us, actually. I wonder if I qualify for two scoops?"

Laughing, he tucked her hand in his arm and they continued down the street. "The older girls are loving every minute of it. And just think. Another week, and it will be just you and me, in Paris."

Her heart skipped a beat, like it always did when he mentioned Paris. Pushing those thoughts away, her eyes scanned the street. "I told them to meet us there. I've only been to this shop once, last fall, but Liesl said they used to come here all the time."

"What flavor will you have?" he asked. "And more important, can we continue playing that game we invented last week? The one with the ice cream, I mean."

She felt her face turn red. They'd come into town for a concert last week, and had stopped for ice cream afterward. Strolling down the street, they'd fallen into a contest involving stealing tastes of ice cream and the occasional kiss, much to the scandalized response of some elderly Salzburgers out for the evening air.

"No, Georg. No more. Anymore teasing like that and I'll.. I'll – ah, here we are. I remember the place because it was so _pink_. Just Marta's speed," Maria declared. She stopped on the sidewalk outside the patisserie, craning her neck to see if she could spot the children inside.

He snorted. "It's pink, all right. I can't imagine they even let men inside. I've been here once with the children, one miserable afternoon last fall. I tried to take them shopping and… Maria? Maria, what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"It was you!" she gasped. "You. The ice cream family."

"Whatever are you talking about, darling?"

"I was here. That afternoon. With another one of the postulants. I helped Gretl and Marta with the door. The other girls came in and then you….that was you!"

"You must be mistaken. I'd have noticed you, surely."

She smiled. "Not in my wimple. And my sturdy black boots. And I was going out of my way to avoid making eye contact with you. You were terrifying!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Only terrifying?"

"Terrifyingly handsome, of course, that's what I meant to say," she laughed, but then her face grew serious. "I remember thinking how, well, you know, how I haven't got parents, and no brothers or sisters, and why you all didn't seem happier. Because at least you had each other. I mean, I understood from something that you said that their mother was – but still…"

He took her hand in his and turned it upward, kissing her palm. "We were missing something. Someone. Someone we've found. We just didn't know to go looking for her in a pastry shop!"

**OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo**

**A/N I wrote this story in response to a "streets of Salzburg" prompt on the Proboards forum, although come to think of it, only a few minutes of it happen on the street! Anyway, I don't own TSOM or anything about it. If you follow me, you may also wish to check out an author named HatOff, who is half-me and half a partner, lemacd.**


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